


Choosing Unwisely

by ilyena_sylph, Merfilly



Series: Inheritance-verse [1]
Category: DC Comics
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-06-06
Updated: 2006-06-06
Packaged: 2017-10-09 03:15:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/82426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ilyena_sylph/pseuds/ilyena_sylph, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merfilly/pseuds/Merfilly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>First in the <i>Inheritance-fic</i> verse between  and I, written off Devin Grayson's novel of the same name.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Choosing Unwisely

Nightwing looked back and forth between the two archers as they stood outside the warehouse Deathstroke had been using. Aquaman and Tempest had disappeared into the sea and Batman--as usual--had vanished, which left him with the pair to deal with... and his old friend flashed him a grin. "My ride's just back by the bridge, 'Wing, and I've got a room for the night. Catch you later."

Dick nodded once, "All right," and glanced back at Green Arrow.

"I'm booked in a hotel on the other side of town and my car's over there, so if you wanted to give me a ride over I sure wouldn't say no... It's kind of a long walk and He might get upset with me if I had to defend myself from his crooks..."

"He just might," Nightwing agreed and headed back towards his bike, his nerves strung tight as a guy-wire after the night they'd had. Two up close and personal battles with Deathstroke would have been enough to twist him up all on their own, but adding in worrying about Roy and Batman hadn't helped, and Ollie'd had him off-balance all night. He'd never figured the older man for the barking-orders type, especially not with everything he'd heard from Roy... and the dressing-down he'd gotten from the normally easygoing archer had felt a lot like being around _Batman_ when he screwed up--and it had triggered the exact same desire to please the archer that disappointing Bruce always brought out in him... //God, I need to get _home,_// he thought as he settled onto the bike and felt Ollie's solid weight drop behind him, //just as soon as I drop him off, I've got to get back out of this _city_... I'm not _with_ it tonight..// "Which hotel?" he asked before he started the Night-bike, //I never intended to name her, damnit//--intending to get a clear answer this time, which could be difficult with Ollie at the best of times..

"The Gotham Arms, on--"

"I know it," Dick cut him off, unwilling to listen to Ollie try and direct him around in his--//not mine anymore//--own city.

"Oh. Well, yeah, you would, wouldn't you? Guess it would be kind of like you trying to give me directions in Star City if I--" the growl of the bike starting shut him up for a moment--//never thought I'd be so happy to get some _silence_. I mean, people call _me_ a chatterbox, but!// He started to weave them through Gotham's late-night traffic, reaching his usual speeds of triple street-legal or so within a few moments, not even sure why he was racing so fast except for the fact that Ollie had liked it earlier...

***

For his part, Ollie was giving serious thought to doing something vaguely suicidal. He hadn't seen Nightwing in years, and _damn_ but the kid had grown up good! For all the comments he'd made about people suspecting... impropriety between the male heroes and their young wards, none of them would _ever_ have exploited a kid like that, but he was sure no kid _now_, and so breathtakingly lovely and _alive_ that it was almost impossible not to want him, not to want to reach into all that blazing life and energy and passion and warm yourself at it a little...

//The Bat will _maul_ you,// a small voice warned from the back of his brain, but he shrugged it off. The ex-Robin was no longer just a boy, but was an adult with his own name and city, tall dark and batty had no reason to bitch... Yeah, he and the Bat were old friends, but so what? It wasn't like Dick was his blood son anyway! He wasn't going to _hurt_ Dick--the thought was repugnant--and he was so very, very gorgeous... That protective, steadying hand came back again as Dick nearly laid the bike over to whip around a curve and Ollie slid closer on the bike, arms wrapping around Dick tighter, testing the reaction curiously... and the strong, proud young man in his arms shivered--and not from the cold of the night wind. He smiled to himself, and let a hand slide from Dick's side down the curve of one sleek hip, still holding on firmly with his other arm. One thing he'd never been was shy about going after what he wanted, and right now that was Dick Greyson. Now if Dick wasn't interested he'd stop, absolutely, but the kid didn't feel like he was objecting...

***

Dick shuddered as Ollie's arms wrapped tighter around him, forcing himself to concentrate on weaving the bike through the traffic, _sure_ he was imagining things--Ollie Queen, despite the name, was as straight as his arrows--he _had_ to be imagining it... Then the slide of Ollie's left hand down his side to his hip made it very, _very_ plain that he was imaging nothi--shit, the hotel's right here! He swung the bike around into the drive and up into the parking garage and stopped in a free space, mind going a hundred directions at once... He felt Ollie slide off the bike, but that left hand ran up across his chest to settle on his left shoulder, gripping gently. "Coming in, Dick?" that strong voice questioned simply--startling when he'd been so talkative all night... and he swallowed hard as that hand tightened a little.

"I... what room?" The half-formed arguments in his mind slid away at the strength of that hand and he simply asked where he needed to be.

"312, Dick. Five minutes," that voice--//Not Ba--NO!//--ordered firmly before the hand disappeared and he heard Ollie walking towards the main building... He sat there a long minute, wondering what the hell he was _thinking_\--//What about Ro--He. Left. I'm _over_ it, and he's got no right to care..//--he banished the thought of his sometime lover and stared at his hands for a moment, but before the time was up he was moving, heading around the back to bound up the balconies to the correct one... and the door was standing open, blinds pulled back. He stepped through, into the low light of the bedside lamp, looking around, noting that the bed had been unmade down to the white topsheet--and Ollie's voice came from behind him as he closed the door, latched it, and pulled the blinds back into place, "I was starting to think you weren't going to show, Dick." He'd lost mask, cap, quiver, boots, bow, and gloves, Dick noticed--it looked more than subtly wrong for him not to be armed, to be in the suit without mask and hat--

"I'm here," he replied, hearing the almost-defiant tone of his voice with a mental wince as he watched the older man walk toward him.

"You know, Dick, I meant what I said earlier... you _are_ hot," Dick could feel himself blushing and struggled to control it, shaking his head at the comment in disbelief, but Ollie was still talking, "It's a damned shame you don't realize it, and I'd like to see those gorgeous baby blues of yours, so..." At the blatant hint Dick reached up to his mask and stripped it away, feeling like all of his confusion and uncertainly was written all over his face now---He needed to _move_ but he couldn't, there wasn't enough room in the small hotel room to pace let alone do anything more athletic and Ollie was too close... _In_ his space now, one bare hand sliding down his back...

***

Ollie pulled the flushed, unresisting younger man into his arms, feeling the texture of the lightweight armor and the solid muscle under it, and knew he had to say _something_. "Dick, you don't have to be here..." He couldn't have coercion hanging over this, or have the kid feel like he was being pushed into someth---

***

Dick cut him off, "I wouldn't _be_ here if I didn't want to be, Ollie!" His voice was sharpened with something even he couldn't name. 'Want' was probably not actually, the right word for how he felt right now, but it sounded better than the (truer) alternative... he couldn't make himself think of leaving now, not when Ollie's blue eyes flared with pleasure? hunger? He didn't know, but the older man dipped his head to kiss him and he lifted into it, feeling Ollie's hand slide up into his hair, cupping the back of his neck and it drew a soft moan--he'd been so lonely...

He could feel himself letting go, surrendering to the blatant strength and desire in Ollie's kiss--he was wanted, and that was enough... This was so close to what he _really_ wanted, and yet there would be no later demands with Ollie Queen, no strings attached to this, no questions about the old scars or the fading bruises or the cuts he'd picked up tonight... The beard against his jaw was half-familiar, the strong hand curled into his hair and the powerful arms wrapped close around him _completely_ so.... Even the sliding hands trying to find their way into the suit were well-known and with a laugh he helped, finding the slide and opening the suit so Ollie could do as he pleased. He pulled off his gloves and dropped them behind Ollie's back and managed to heel out of the boots, freeing his hands to slide up into wavy blond hair without the catching roughness of the gloves and he kissed him again, pleadingly sweet, pressing against the archer's solidly muscled body. //Yes, please...//

***

Ollie was almost shocked by the strength of the response he got from that first kiss, by the way Dick arched into his touch and kiss and opened the suit at his first, testing touches--but he wasn't going to complain, not when the situation was so in his favor... He worked on sliding that supple, elasticized armor down off Dick's body, getting it to his hips before he went after the sculpted back and chest the suit had hidden, letting his hand slide over strong muscle, left hand still cupped around the back of his neck, keeping him close as he caressed the guy in his arms, mapping that amazingly flexible body by touch--and was startled to feel strong bare hands slide from his back to the belt, tugging it open. He hadn't even heard it hit the floor when he felt a tug at the vest laces, pulling them loose... and in another moment the heavy leather of the vest hit the floor along with the belt, leaving him in the tunic and tights... //...so willing...//

Those slim, strong hands slid under his tunic, caressing their way up and he shucked out of it easily, tossing it backwards as it hit his hands--and he gasped at the feel of hot, warm skin against his and the equally hot mouth latched against his throat. Dick's hands returned to his back, sliding against his skin--and he changed his mental description of Dick's mouth from 'hot' to 'wicked' as the kid started to lick down his throat, strong slim hard body writhing against his.. He let himself move with him, hands sliding down to cup that amazing ass to pull him closer, wondering for a heartbeat if he just might be out-matched here.

***

Dick hummed at the gasp and kept licking his way down from Ollie's throat to his collarbone, noting the details of scars with the back of his brain as his hands ran over the (famili--//NO!//) hard muscles of the archer's back. He slid down slightly to mouth across one hard, broad pec, rubbing his cheek against the skin he wasn't kissing, and pressed his tongue hard against the hard nipple he'd found--and he wasn't sure if it was the hand that fastened in his hair or the low, harsh noise of pleasure that made him moan, buck pleadingly against Ollie's hips and suck harder at the flesh in his mouth. He knew his hands were still moving because of the impressions he was feeling, but his attention was on what his mouth was doing against Ollie's skin, on the dusting of blond hair against his cheek and the (controlling) hand lodged in his hair... After a few moments he rocked his head back a little, questioning, and when the hand let up he switched sides happily, licking and rubbing against that other pec--and every approving noise and suddenly gasped breath sent pleasure-shocks straight to his groin and sent him flying higher...

His spine started to protest the position it was in--so he flattened his hands against Ollie's sides and dropped to a knee, cheek pressed to Ollie's body as he did, making a soft noise at the feel of washboard muscle against his cheek... The way the hand in his hair tightened (almost punishingly hard) and pulled him _in_ tighter made him mewl and rock against the air. //oh, yes..// he took in the heavy scent of arousal the next time he breathed, and nearly moaned again. He licked at solid abs hungrily, more than a little lost in the feel of that hard body, hands sliding down to Ollie's hips to examine the waistband of the leggings with deft fingers as he licked--//Ah. Zipper, snap... There. Gone,// and he slipped his hands into the tights, pushing them down a little, finding the familiar shape of an athletic cup. He worked at that with his mouth still busy on Ollie's abs until he could push it away and lick _down_, flicking his tongue over the damp tip, panting softly as he tasted him... God, but he'd missed the feel of another body against his, missed the simple pleasure of another's skin, the sound of racing heart and lungs--and the soft oath from over his head was pure music as he started to suck at him, lips and tongue working in concert... and Ollie's other hand left his back and tangled into the other side of his hair, wrists flexing to pull him deeper, and though he could barely hear the words over the sound of his heart in his ears the tone and pace of the low, rough words told him he was being praised, maybe cursed but in good humor and that----he was already so, soo close...

***

Ollie wasn't even sure what he was saying, but god, the feel of Dick's mouth wrapped around _his_ dick was just unreal... He wasn't sure where Dick'd learned to do this but this _sure_ wasn't the first time, because some of the things the kid was doing with that mouth Ollie'd never felt before. His hands curved, wrists twisting to pull his mouth farther down--and he went willingly, just opening up easy as silk and better feeling... "So damned good, Dick, god, yes.." and he let himself rock into that sweet, wicked hungry mouth. He found a pace that worked for them both after a bit, hands flexing half-unconsciously in soft, soft black hair over and over again... He lost track of time and everything but the feel until he was _too_ close--and he pushed Dick's head back by tugging at his hair, feeling the lost of that heat like a punch but he wasn't ready for that yet. The broken whimper as he forced Dick back and the way he struggled a moment against Ollie's hands in his hair made the archer croon to him gently, "Shh, easy.. easy, Dick, it's okay..." and pull him up with that same grip, cradling him against his chest reassuringly, stroking down the shaking muscles of his back to calm him.

"It's okay, Dick," he forced the kid to meet his eyes, smile on his lips, "I'm just not ready to be done with you yet. I want more than your mouth, unless you don't?" He watched those blue eyes dilate to almost solid black, heard the breath freeze in his lungs, saw the way he shuddered and pressed tighter and purred in pleasure, "Oh, good. Into bed, then..."

***

Dick shuddered and forced himself to step back, almost clumsy with desire as he moved to the bed, pushing the suit past his hips before he sat down--and Ollie was there pulling it and the cup the rest of the way off. A twist of the archer's hand sent him sliding back into the middle of the king-sized bed, waiting as Ollie lost both tights and the cup and crawled onto the bed with him--pinned him to it, his pulse jumping at the feel of nothing but skin against his and he writhed pleadingly against the older man, hands finding his back again to cling as solid weight pinned him down. He arched into the sudden kiss, jaw dropping open to let Ollie ravage his mouth, trying to figure out how to wrap his legs around Ollie with the archer's weight on his thighs, mewling at the feel of those solid abs against his cock every time he moved or Ollie breathed... When Ollie finally broke the kiss he gasped for air, trying to open his eyes again, finally looking up with need blazing in his eyes, a plea on his lips--and Ollie kissed him again, callused, sure hands caressing down his sides.

He found himself panting for air again, head thrown back against the sheet... and whined as Ollie levered his body off him again, feeling the panic flash across his expression-

"Easy, kid... turn over for me, I don't want to hurt you."

He flushed at the reassurance in Ollie's voice, unsure he liked having been so obvious, and rolled, mewling softly as the cool sheet came in contact with hot flesh--and Ollie's hands slid over his back, down his shoulders, along his ribs, the touch almost gentle--he arched into it, letting go of everything but desire again as warm weight settled over his body, hot mouth against his neck as Ollie blanketed and caressed him. He splayed his legs open at the insistent pressure of a knee and crossed his hands under his forehead, rolling his shoulders back against hard-muscled flesh hungrily, turning himself over to the sureness in his lover's hands and body...

He didn't know how long it was before the weight moved and a slicked finger pressed into him, but he mewled and rocked up into it, body begging for more... He half-heard the low, soft laugh and writhed, rocking back against that finger until it wasn't one, but two, and he _moaned_, rocking... "O-ollie please, now..." he managed to beg, barely fighting off his orgasm _now_, let alone if he kept teasing him... It was only a moment and those fingers were sliding out of him--and he barely had time to protest the absence before he felt slick--//rubber? oh, good.//--heat press against and into him, and ooooh.... He mewled and bucked backward--and Ollie cursed against his neck, something he didn't recognize as Ollie sank deep into him, thick and hot and it felt so fucking _good_... Hands wrapped around his wrists tightly and he mewled again... He was pinned, held, possessed (_safe_) and it felt so good he fought against hot tears, moving pleadingly with the pace Ollie set, fighting not to lose it like a kid but otherwise completely abandoned to the pleasure slamming through his body...

***

Roy had been surprised to see Ollie's name on the register of the Gotham Arms hotel when he was checking in that afternoon, but decided the coincidence was entirely too amusing. He'd been unable to coax, bribe, or cajole the concierge into giving him a key to the room despite his best attempts, and hadn't had the chance while they were chasing Deathstroke... but it wasn't as though the locks of the old hotel were any challenge to an ex-Checkmate agent. He'd figured Dick would be either at the Manor or the Haven by now, and hopefully asleep, so when he couldn't rest after getting a meal he headed down a floor and over four or five rooms. //Ah.// Leaning casually against the doorframe as though waiting for someone, he worked the lock open behind his back and slid into the den/kitchen front room, pulling the door shut silently. He caught a glow of light under the bedroom door and had his hand on it before he heard a low, soft moan. He failed to stop his body from opening the door---and froze at the sight. His training told him all the answers before his mind could get past the shock, but he couldn't believe it.

He stood there in the doorway for probably a solid minute, unable to breathe as he double-checked everything his trained eye had caught in that first look. Ollie's gear was neatly piled against a wall, not hastily dropped--a sharp contrast to the ramshackle pile of vest and tunic a few steps from the bed and the tights draped half-over his boots immediately beside the bed... but that wasn't what had nearly ripped his heart out.

No... that honor was reserved for the black gloves laying against the pale carpet half-underneath the vest, the slice of blackness he recognized as a disgarded mask near them, the black boots obviously kicked back next to the bed, and the crumpled spill of black and blue nomex like old blood at the foot of the bed. He knew that costume as well as he knew his own, had _seen_ it like that once or twice in the aftermath of a long afternoon... And seeing it mixed with Ollie's gear, //It'd have been kinder to slit my throat,// the thought sliced through his mind as he stood there lost for breath. Of all people, Dick knew _best_ how much this would hurt him, how desperately he'd once wanted to be able to give GA enough that he'd _stay..._ Even if they _weren't_\--//had never really been//--together anymore, how could _Dick_...

His eyes were finally drawn to the bed itself, to the pale form of his ex-guardian's strong body rocking against the bed, arms running alongside another set of strong arms, bright blond hair against the raven-black head underneath, legs and hips between a wide-spread tanned set Roy would have recognized anywhere... He choked on pain and black hatred--and the noise ripped through the quiet room like a gunshot, as did the single, disbelieving word that ripped from his lips now that they were open, sounding as raw and betrayed as he felt.. "_Dick?_"

***

Ollie'd missed the soft sounds of the doors opening, secure in the knowledge that he had the room's only key and completely occupied with the giving, lovely young man under him... but he wasn't deaf and that voice wasn't soft. His body stilled despite its protests for a heartbeat, trying to understand the shock and betrayal in his one-time partner's voice--and then Nightwing thrashed under him and something about the way he moved gave him all the answers--"Dick NO!" he barked at the hero under him before he could hurt himself struggling, hands locking on his wrists harder. Dick froze under him and he eased his grip. He shifted up onto one arm to look back over his body at Roy, seeing the pain carved into his face without really understanding the full reasons behind it... "Roy, easy now..." he tried for gentle, reassuring, suddenly savagely afraid for the young man that had been like his son. "Easy, now.."

***

Roy's eyes flared in enraged disbelief at the words coming from Ollie's mouth and his lips twisted cruelly, "'Easy, now?' I walk in on you fucking my _best friend_ and all you can say is 'easy, now'? _**Fuck**_ you, Ollie!" The snarl was damned-near a full-throated scream, he realized as it echoed off the walls back at him. "I just... I can't even... god, I _thought_ I knew what it was like to hate you... _Don't_ come after me," he heard himself snarl as he wheeled on a heel, turning back to catch the door to shut it again, "_either_ of you," was thrown behind him like a dart... but in that second he'd turned back he saw Dick crumple against the bed, curling in on himself... //Good!// he yelled in the silence of his mind, but the thought was half-hearted. He knew what it took to make Dick look like that, and... //He damned well deserves it!!--(no, he doesn't,)// the voice of reason he so-rarely listened to spoke up. (He doesn't... you _know_ how he is...)

//Fucked up? Yeah, no shit, I thought he had better fucking taste than 'Love-Em-and-Leave-Em' Ollie Queen!// He slammed the suite's door shut somewhere in the middle of that thought and headed for the stairs, too steamed to even contemplate taking the slow-moving music-playing elevator at this point.

(Yes, but--) //I don't want to hear it. Fuck off. Tell me in a few hours, once I've beaten enough skells to pulp to think clearly again...//

{there's a faster way to forget...} his sickness whispered from deep in his heart, promising easy oblivion if he would just give in, go out on the streets but not as Arsenal... //NO! No god _damn_ it I will _NOT_ let Ollie-fucking-Queen drive me to being nothing but a fucking _junkie_ Ever Again!//

The flash of white fury burned the heroin jones from his veins (for the moment)... and the realization that he could _hurt_ someone innocent in this state made him lean against the wall and shudder, trying to take deep, calming breaths with his heart racing with rage... Slowly, far too slowly, it began to work, his anger began to ebb away, leaving nothing but the hollow ache and bitter taste of betrayal in his mouth and heart. He'd calmed... but it was a numb, unreal calm. In that detached state, he went downstairs, calmly explained that he was leaving now, returned his key, and went to his bike to head north to the _only_ person that gave a damn about him, the light of his life, his Lian.

***

In the third-floor hotel room, Dick had collapsed against the sheets, shaking in physiological reaction to the shock, the shattered arousal, the disconnect between before Roy's words and after and the agony of hearing that kind of hate aimed at _him_ from _Roy_... He could barely feel the world around him, didn't notice as Ollie slipped out of him, barely heard the older man's worried, then frightened voice, didn't notice his touch... His head was spinning too fast and in too many directions, and all of them were tied to the pain in his ex's voice... He curled onto his side now that he was free to move and trembled, arms wrapping around his legs, eyes open but unseeing as he tried to keep breathing. //Oh, god.. no... I hurt him... I... god, I fucked up...//

Part of him wanted nothing but to go back to the secure mindlessness of a few minutes ago, and that was making him shake for completely other reasons--he couldn't believe he was craving the very thing that had made Roy sound like that, but... He'd needed it so _badly_... The conflict and confusion pounded through him in waves--until suddenly a hand cracked brutally hard across his shoulder, reconnecting him to the physical world even as he rolled off the bed to his feet and into a defensive stance...

It was only Ollie, and the blond was sitting on the bed hands open and empty palms-up on his knees.

"What the _hell?!_" he heard himself snap.

"I couldn't get you to come back, kid... I tried everything I could think of and nothing worked. I've never seen anyone go that deeply into shock that wasn't critically wounded... I'm _sorry_ I hit you, I really am..." There was thick regret in Ollie's voice, and something told Dick it wasn't just for the slap.

"I... it's all right... Thank you..." he went for his suit, pulling it on up to his hips, unable to look the older man in the face at the moment..

"Dick... you are _not_ okay right now. What can I do?"

He shook his head. "Nothing. I've got to go... Ollie, I'm sorry, I just--" he glanced at him from the corner of his eyes, watching him without appearing to... and that he didn't see anger confused the hell out of him.

"It's okay, kid... for the record, I was having a hell of a good time," the older man said softly, warmth in his words...

Dick nodded, forcing a reply past his vocal cords "I.. so was I..." as he slid the rest of the way into the suit and reached for his boots, standing on one leg to pull them on--then _winced_ at the flash of pain from his ass. //What the... oh...// he knew what had happened, his body had clamped down when he was frightened and now it hurt... "I... have to go..."

Ollie nodded, then frowned. "_Call_ me when you get somewhere so I know you didn't total the bike."

Dick nodded sharply as he picked up his gloves and pulled them on and pasted the mask back across his eyes, went out the balcony door and dropped the three floors with none of his usual flair. He reached his bike in a few moments and headed south for the Haven and the cold, lonely bed that was all he had.  
***


End file.
